Shielded

by KayLynn Flanders

  I startled, then groaned as everything I’d been working to heal jostled and burned anew.

  “I did it! I did it! I surprised Leinn!” she squealed with glee.

  Chiara touched my shoulder, trying to keep back her smile while Mari did a little wiggle dance. Her happiness was contagious, and I laughed with her once I’d caught my breath.

  But my conscience twinged. They still didn’t know my true identity. So far, the only ones who knew my identity were the king, Enzo, Luc, and maybe Yesilia, though she might have guessed my identity long ago.

  “What will I never guess?” I asked Mari as I dragged my legs over the side so I could sit.

  Chiara rolled her eyes and folded her arms, waiting for her sister to spill the information. Mari was hopping from foot to foot. Most of the other beds were now empty, offering a bit of privacy, but not much.

  “There is a visitor from the north. He just arrived, and Chiara blushes every time he’s mentioned.” She leaned closer and whispered loudly, “She thinks he’s handsome.”

  I smirked at the blush rising on Chiara’s cheeks. A man from the north? I wondered if Irena and Lorenz would know him. “What does your handsome man look like?”

  A dreamy smile appeared on her face to go along with her rosy cheeks. A smile that reminded me of the girls who used to follow my brother around the castle.

  “He’s so tall. Taller than Enzo! And he has deep-blue eyes and the most amazing golden hair with a white streak.”

  It couldn’t be.

  The door to Yesilia’s chambers flew open, banging into the wall. I lurched to my feet. It couldn’t be. I’d felt his tether snap.

  There, outlined in the doorway, a man with golden hair froze. His clothes were worn and dirty, and mud was caked on his boots. But a familiar smile bloomed across his face.

  Ren.

  I took a halting step toward him, my legs refusing to obey my command to run.

  “Jenna!” His voice carried across the room and, like a memory I had long since forgotten, went straight into my heart and curled up to stay. He jumped over the nearest bed and wound his way to me.

  “Ren,” I whispered. My leg gave out on the first step, but I caught myself on the table and started running as best I could.

  We crashed together, and he gathered me in his arms. I cried out, both from pleasure and pain. It was a small price to pay if it meant my brother wasn’t dead. I burrowed my head against his chest and wrapped my good arm around him, listening to his heart pound.

  “You were dead,” I sobbed. He held me close and whispered soothing words into my hair. I finally pulled away, enough to see his dirt-streaked face, his blue eyes bright with tears, a smile splitting his face.

  “Father?” I whispered. If the tethers had been wrong about Ren…

  Ren’s face fell, a deep sorrow in his eyes. I laid my head on his chest again and held him tighter. When my father’s tether had snapped, it had felt just like when my mother died. But Ren’s tether hadn’t just snapped; it had shredded.

  I could hear Chiara and Mari whispering behind us, and finally noticed the others who’d entered with Ren.

  “Cris!” I said with a laugh, and wiped my nose on the back of my hand. His clothes were as dirty as Ren’s, but his face didn’t light up to see me.

  He only barely smiled, looking more sick than anything. “What happened to you?” Cris said.

  Enzo pushed his way forward. “Careful. She’s injured.”

  Ren frowned and took me in—my limp, my arm wrapped to my side in a sling.

  “Ice and snow, Jenna. What did happen to you?” The blood had drained from his face, leaving him paler and more haggard than he’d been before. He was thinner than before, too.

  “Ren, shall I go?” Cris asked.

  “Go?” I said, “You just got here.”

  He scuffed his boot against the floor. “I can take a message to the general. Stop the war.”

  My hand fisted in Ren’s tunic. The war. My brother was alive. He was the ruling heir.

  I met Enzo’s gaze with wide eyes, and he chuckled, seeing that I’d finally figured it out. He asked Ren, “Why didn’t you send a message to your people as soon as you crossed into Turia?”

  Ren rubbed the back of his neck. “At first, it was because everyone said Hálendi blamed Turia for Jenna’s death. But the longer we were in Turia, the more I couldn’t figure out why you would attack us. And I wanted proof that Jenna was alive.”

  Yesilia came up behind my brother and smacked the back of his head. “You are undoing all of my hard work! Come, children,” she said with open arms. “Come to my room for your reunion, and we’ll see what damage you’ve done.” She peered at Ren’s hair closer and raised an eyebrow. “Or perhaps you can undo the damage yourself.”

  Ren’s cheekbones tinged pink under her scrutiny and my lips pressed into a smile. Cris touched his fist to his shoulder, then slipped out while Yesilia told Luc to accompany Chiara and Mari so they could tell their mother who’d arrived. Chiara glanced back at me right before she went out of sight, her brows pulled low. I hoped she’d forgive me once I explained everything.

  Ren and Enzo helped me sit on Yesilia’s bed, and my brother knelt by my side. He brushed my hair out of my face. “No braid?”

  I shook my head and stared at him, drinking in the sight.

  “It’s really you.” He touched his chest and lowered his voice until I could barely hear it. “I knew you weren’t dead.”

  “Me?” I wiped my nose again. “You were the dead one.”

  He raised his eyes and looked over my injuries once more. “Are you sure about that?” I bumped his shoulder, and he shook his head. “Let’s see what we can do about these wounds, and you can tell me what happened.”

  Who cared about healing? I wanted to know how he’d found me, how he’d known I wasn’t dead. And how he was here. Alive.

  In the Kingdom of Turia

  “Brownlok has betrayed us.” Greymere stood in a bosco away from the camp of his men. He’d expended so much energy to get them here, and now it was all wasted.

  Redalia scoffed and brushed her silky hair, her bare shoulders glinting in the moonlight as she stared at the pool of water in her room. “He was useless anyway. We can track him to the Black Library, kill him, and take his power for ourselves.”

  Graymere flicked his hand, and a boulder flew into a tree, shattering the trunk. “If his impulsiveness hadn’t forced the royals to leave the estate early, I could have destroyed their entire family and everyone loyal to them in one attack. The fool!” His yell echoed into the darkness.

  Redalia laughed, the tinkling sound dissolving into the night. “Well, you’ve always known Brownlok’s potential. Maybe you shouldn’t have left him in the borderlands for so long.”

  “He is no match for me,” he snarled. “Stay in Riiga. Get their council under control and find what you can on the Black Library. Kais would be a fool if he didn’t protect it with enchantments.”

  Redalia’s face twisted in anger. “Do not speak his name,” she hissed. She paused, smoothing her face from any sign of her outburst. “You have a rogue mage and a very-much-alive brat with too much magic. Let me help you. I have my dagger, and without Moraga—”

  Graymere growled and threw another boulder. “I can handle the girl. She is untrained.”

  “You must take her power, or we will never make it to the Black Library. Even my powers are fading on this magic-forsaken Plateau, and you saw what happened to our fellow mages in the Ice Deserts. We need to get to the Continent soon, or our powers will fade completely.” Redalia’s voice was hard in the night.

  “I have kept us alive on my cousin’s land for centuries for one purpose.” Graymere stopped pacing and looked into the pool, his eyes lit with rage. “I will finish what I started.”

  Enzo pu
lled up a chair next to me, his knee brushing mine. Ren glared at him, then bobbed his eyebrows up and down at me while holding back his grin. Tears welled in my eyes again. My brother was back.

  He set his hands on my shoulder. Intense heat started on the surface. The longer he kept his hand there, the deeper the heat penetrated, until it felt like I’d been lying in the sun for hours. My bone shifted into place, and the muscles around it relaxed. My head dropped as the pain left.

  “What else?” Ren asked.

  “Her ribs, a cut on her arm, and her leg,” Enzo listed off.

  “Start with my ribs,” I said. If Ren tried healing my leg first and the shade’s poison drained his magic before it was fully better, I wanted my ribs taken care of, at least.

  “How are you here?” I asked, taking in his dirty, wavy hair, the bruises under his eyes. Cris had looked even worse.

  Ren sighed. “I was almost to North Watch when I had a dream. It was…There was a woman in red. She was fighting with Father, almost like she was playing with him, waiting for something. Then she stuck her hand out and pulled his life out of him.”

  He touched his fingers to my sternum and closed his eyes, and my ribs stopped hurting. Could that be the Red Mage?

  Ren leaned back and ruffled his hair. “The Medallion…I can’t explain it, but I knew something was wrong. Cris and I broke off from our party, and the first town we came to had already heard the news—the king was dead. Cris said if something had happened to the king, then I would be a target as well, so we headed south to Turia instead, assuming Marko would give us asylum while we figured out what had happened.”

  I’d have to thank Cris when I saw him next; I’d asked him to keep Ren safe, and he had.

  He told us how he’d made it through the Wild on Miners’ Pass, how he’d arrived expecting safety but instead met with war.

  “We searched from town to town by feel alone—trying to understand the Medallion, why it kept pushing me onward when everyone said you’d died.”

  “Your tether broke,” I said softly. He moved his hands to my leg, and I hissed when the ice fought against the heat. More color drained from his face the longer he worked on me. “I thought you’d died.”

  His brow furrowed, and sweat beaded on his forehead. His skin lost more color, until it was almost gray. I pushed his hands away. “That’s good enough.” There was still ice in my leg, but it was already so much better. Yesilia came in with a tray of lunch for all of us, and passed around cups filled with sweet water before she bustled out again.

  “Tell me,” Ren said, when all three of us had settled on the bed, our backs against the wall, our feet dangling off.

  Enzo and I relayed all we could about the mages, the war, about everything that had brought us here. While we talked, Ren ate like he’d been starving for weeks. With a jolt, I realized he might have been.

  “I don’t know how the tether would break,” Ren said when we’d finished. “I guess it’s possible the mage could manipulate your magic, break it himself. I’ve never read about it, but maybe that knowledge has been lost since their time.”

  “You’re alive,” I said. “That’s all that matters.”

  Enzo sat forward. “I’ve given you all the time I can,” he said apologetically. “If you’ll both come with me, I think my father will want to speak with you.” His hand brushed against mine and squeezed. I was glad he’d let Ren and me speak privately first, but he was right. It was time to end the war. Even if I had to leave the safety of the palace to do it.

  * * *

  With Ren at my side, his arm around my shoulders as we walked toward the council room, I hoped I could somehow mend his tether. It was there inside me, but still a mess. I’d have to try once the ice in my leg stopped draining my magic.

  The dread, the feeling of being hunted, was sharpening.

  Enzo, walking on my other side, kept glancing between us, his dancing eyes reflecting my elation. My brother was back from the dead. And I was no longer the ruling heir of Hálendi.

  But our kingdoms were still at war, with Hálendi’s forces advancing over the soft Turian soil, propelled by a traitor we still hadn’t identified. And the mages were still after the Black Library.

  The cane Yesilia had thrust into my hands and insisted I use thumped in time with our march down the halls. A guard halted us at the door.

  “I’m sorry, Your Highness,” he said, addressing Enzo. “His Majesty is meeting with his advisors and asked not to be disturbed.”

  Enzo straightened, but Ren winked at me and stepped forward. “Surely King Marko would appreciate knowing that Prince Atháren of Hálendi is ready to negotiate peace.”

  The guard’s eyes widened and he stuttered incoherently.

  “Ice and snow! Glaciers move faster than you,” I grumbled. I pushed him out of the way with my cane and opened the door, Ren and Enzo close behind.

  “—lendi’s forces have forced our men back again. The fighting is now only three days from the palace. The good news is that they are keeping the land intact rather than razing everything.”

  “So they can keep it for themselves, no doubt,” muttered the man nearest to the door.

  I cleared my throat. He blinked up at me and sank into his chair while outraged whispers rippled through the room. Men and women sat around a long table with papers scattered across it.

  Another man pushed his chair back and stood. “What is the meaning of this?” He took in my brother’s fair hair but didn’t bother looking past his ragged appearance. “Are we taking on yet another Hálendian guard?” He sneered, but Ren just smiled and tilted his head toward King Marko.

  Marko stared at my brother. “Can it be?”

  Ren nodded, and Marko stood to address the council.

  “Lord Hallen, I believe it has been some time since you have been acquainted with King Shraeus’s son—Atháren of Hálendi.”

  Murmurs rumbled around the room as those at the table craned their necks to get a better look at the heir to the Hálendian throne. So this was Lord Hallen, the esteemed councilor whose daughter had been approved for Enzo.

  “And I believe you already know his sister, Princess Jennesara, who has taken refuge in our palace since her attempted assassination.”

  Silence swallowed the room, broken only by Lord Hallen choking on his reply.

  I spoke up in the lull. “We need to get to the front lines, Your Majesty. We can stop the war.”

  “No!” Lord Hallen shouted. “We would be delivering our best chance at negotiating a treaty into our enemy’s hands! How do we know they will really stop the fighting?”

  Ren folded his arms over his chest. Enzo dragged a hand down his face. I clenched my teeth in an effort to keep from lashing out.

  Hallen was the man who’d lured the king, queen, and prince heir out of the palace, though the timing was actually good, since if they’d been in the palace when it was attacked…My thoughts ground to a halt. The timing was almost convenient. The palace guard had been a skeleton of its usual numbers. Perfect for Koranth and Brownlok to infiltrate the most secure location in Turia.

  King Marko stared down his advisors. “Would anyone else like to support Lord Hallen’s proposal to use the prince heir and the princess of Hálendi as hostages?”

  I wrapped my hand around the pommel of my sword and held my cane tighter as muttering skipped around the table. But no one said a word.

  “Good. You will all keep your positions a little longer.”

  I had never seen King Marko so livid.

  “Councilor Hallen?” I blurted out, my slick hand gripping my cane tighter. I could be wrong, but the timing of everything had been too perfect. And Brownlok had been livid that someone had escaped to warn the king because he wouldn’t have as much time to search the palace. Like he knew how long they’d be gone.

  Hallen
grabbed the back of his chair. “What?” he bit out, all politeness forgotten.

  I tilted my head in pretend nonchalance. “Are you in league with the mages, or with Riiga?”

  No one moved.

  Marko’s jaw clenched tight and Enzo eased closer to me.

  “You know nothing,” Hallen snarled at me. But it wasn’t a denial. He wasn’t dumb enough to lie in Marko’s presence.

  “Guards, escort Hallen back to his chambers and see that he stays in them,” Marko said, his voice like steel.

  Hallen didn’t fight it, but Ren and Enzo stepped in front of me as Hallen and the guards exited. None of the other councilors made a single sound.

  “I need to speak with the prince heir privately,” Marko said to his council, eyes flashing. “You are excused.”

  The advisors stood as one and filed out until it was just us and the king. Marko rubbed his hand against his forehead. “I should have seen it. I just didn’t want to.”

  I didn’t know what to say. None of us did.

  My brother finally cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Your Majesty, Jenna is proof that Turia wasn’t involved in the assassination plot—you’ve housed her and protected her for weeks. We must put a stop to all of this.”

  King Marko studied my brother. “Are you sure General Leland will listen to you? I’ve tried communicating with him several times, but he’s never sent back a reply.”

  “Leland is alive?” I interjected. I owed Leland my life; he had helped me escape when Graymere attacked.

  Marko nodded. “He is the one leading Hálendi’s attack.”

  I pulled out a chair and sat, stretching out my throbbing leg. “He must have been the one to report what the mage said in the Wild. That you were responsible for the death of my father and Ren.”

  Marko folded his hands on the table. “Prince Atháren, why didn’t you stop the fighting once you’d crossed into our land? We obviously didn’t kill you.”

  Ren scratched at something hanging around his neck.